Let's Get Physical
by MorgieSan
Summary: Castle gives Kate a ride to physical therapy, and meets the infamous Roger. Leaving this as in-progress, because I might revisit the character. K  for minor language.


Notes: I wrote this back when we first heard about Roger, and then promptly forgot about it.

Disclaimer: If I owned Castle college would be paid for.

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><p>Beckett sighed and sat on the low wall fencing off her building from the sidewalk. Her car made this horrible choking noise when she tried to start it, and then sputtered out in the most pitiful cry of death the worst actor on Broadway could never muster. So now she was waiting for Castle to come pick her up. Sure, a cab would've been quicker, but at least a ride from Castle came with coffee and good conversation. Heated seats too! She was sore today, and knew she'd definitely overdone it yesterday at the gym. His car didn't smell bad either. Yeah, she was totally taking advantage of him today.<p>

When he pulled up in his sleek black SUV she grinned at how not him it was. It was a completely forgettable vehicle. He rolled down the passenger window and waved her coffee cup at her, because even it if did belong to him it was hers. She grinned and pushed away from the wall, sliding between the cars parked at the curb to get to him. Wait, the car. She wanted to get to the car. She climbed in and buckled up, suddenly not so eager to get to her torture (read: therapy) session.

"So, the death trap fell into its own trap?" he teased, passing her the cup.

"I do not drive a death trap, but, yes, I think it died. For good," she answered before taking a grateful two-handed sip of the coffee. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He pulled back into traffic and made a left at the next light to double back towards her therapist's office. "Does this mean I get to drive for a while?"

"We'll see," she teased, settling back and flipping the switch to turn on the seat heater. The luxuries of luxury. She could get used to it. "How's Alexis?"

"Better. Thanks," he replied, making another turn. "I think she's still heartbroken, but on the mend."

"She'll get there. It's never easy to lose your first love. Can I play with the radio?"

"You're asking?" Surprise was evident in his voice.

"It's your car..." she trailed off and cast a sideways glance at him. "See, I was raised to respect my elders. To ask permission and all that."

"Funny, for that... feel free. Mi car es su car."

"Esposito would kill you for that. Mi coche es su coche, hell, tu even!" She quirked her eyebrow and leaned forward to find a station. Settling on her favorite rock station on XM, she tossed him a sly smile and joined in with Ziggy, "Don't let the sun blast your shadow. Don't let the milk float ride your mind. You're so natural - religiously unkind..."

"Didn't peg you for a Ziggy Stardust fan. That's - kind of hot," he deadpanned, making another turn.

She grinned and burrowed back into the soft leather seats, humming along with the music.

"You stopped singing!" he pouted. "I take it back then. Not hot. Keep singing."

She rolled her eyes and quietly sang along until the end of the song. He smiled broadly and continued to drive them toward their destination.

"Thanks."

She nodded and watched a tinted New York slowly pass them by for several minutes. "Hey Castle?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the ride."

"Anytime!" he chirped, pulling into a parking garage a block from her therapist's office. "Do you want me to wait here?"

"You can come up," she said as she unbuckled and popped open the car door, "but you have to behave."

"I think I can do that."

"I don't," she teased, waiting for him at the back of the car. "I know you can't."

"You really wound me, Detective," he shot back, rounding the tail end of the car and striding past her in the wrong direction.

She watched him walk for a while, it had nothing to do with watching his backside, before stopping him with a sharp whistle. "This way Castle." She jerked her thumb in the opposite direction and shouldered her purse before taking off. He caught up with her easily and pressed her forward with a hand to the small of her back.

"Don't want to keep Roger waiting."

"My appointment isn't for another 15 minutes, Rick." They quickly covered the short distance up to the office, which looked more like the gym in his building than an office, and found a couple of free seats in the waiting area.

"Not what I was expect-" He faltered when she pelled the baggy NYPD sweatshirt over her head and piled her hair into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. There was way too much Beckett skin showing for his brain to properly function. The black sports bra and threadbare white tank top did nothing to really cover her up. The top was cut low under the arms and the racerback dipped low on her spine. He was in so much trouble already. "-ing," he finished lamely.

"So, I decided you can drive for a while," she spoke, bending forward to adjust the hem of the exercise pants she was wearing. When she leaned forward the tank rode up her back and exposed more of her creamy skin to him. He didn't hear a word she said.

"Uhhh, k?" He shook his head to try to bring himself back into the conversation. "Drive?"

"Unless you don't want to. It's going to take them a while to fix my car, and requisitioning another one is so not worth it." Not when his car is so much nicer. She moved down to the floor and began to do some basic warm-up stretches. Seeing all the different ways she could actually bend was wreaking havoc on his circulatory system. Everything she was saying was going in one in ear and right out the other. His mind was racing, trying to catalog all the lines of her body and the way she was moving them. Nikki Heat could only benefit from this, and it kept him from focusing on the fact that it was Kate Beckett.

"Driving, y-yeah. I-I can do that," he stuttered, swinging his gaze to the other side of the room, trying to find something that was not the cat-like Katherine Beckett.

She looked at him oddly and rolled her eyes. "If you don't want to drive just say so."

"No, no, I'll drive!" He turned back to her and plastered on a smile. "I'd be honored to be your chauffeur."

She rolled her eyes again but returned the smile.

"Katie! Get that gorgeous ass up and moving!" He held an arm out to help pull her up at exactly the same time Castle did.

"Decisions, decisions..." she groused, before grabbing each arm and hauling herself up.

Roger gave Castle a once over, from the top of his head down to his dress shirt, from dress shirt to slacks, from slacks to dress shoes. He shot Kate an appreciative glance and quirked a shaped blonde eyebrow at her.

She glanced back at Castle and saw the displeased look on his face. "Oh, for crying out loud," she muttered, turning fully toward Castle and grabbing the collar of his shirt. She raised up on her toes and pressed a searing kiss against his lips. "We will talk about that later."

"Wha..."

Kate grabbed Roger by the tanned, well-muscled bicep and hauled him across the room to the weights. "Hey, eyes over here buddy!" She playfully, albeit roughly, shoved him into the heavy punching bag in the corner. "He might look like the duck and talk like the duck, and occasionally act like the duck, but I can assure you Roger, it's not your ass he's checking out. Got it?"

Giving her a flash of the pearly whites he pushed away from the bag. "We are five by five, chick-a-dee. He's cute."

"Are you really playing the 'a guy can look' card?" she shot back, grabbing a resistance band for him. "I can go right on over there and tell Marcus about your wandering eyes."

"Then leave your boyfriend at home next time." He shot Castle a wink across the room and then started Kate's therapy session.


End file.
